


i once performed a holy rite

by thispapermoon



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Healing, Hicsqueak, Hurt/Comfort, Pippa Pentangle is a pent-angel, Post-Spelling Bee, Sweetness, TW: Homophobia, Young Love, tw: internalized homophobia, tw: mentions of sexual assault, tw: slight self-harm, two gay witches in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thispapermoon/pseuds/thispapermoon
Summary: Hecate reaches out blindly and places her hand on the floor between them, the stone cold against her burning palm. She feels Pippa’s hand move next to hers - nearly touching but not quite.“Please,” she whispers, moving so that it presses next to Pippa’s, trying and failing to balance her desperate heart against the years of raging fear.Pippa’s hand presses back. “May I?” she murmurs, fingertips just brushing her own. And Hecate slowly turns her hand over and allows Pippa to lace their fingers together. Breathes in and breathes out at her first true acceptance of intimacy in thirty years.****Pippa always knew there was more to Hecate leaving than a silly broomstick competition. With  betrayal still hanging so rawly between them decades later, she is determined to finally learn the truth. But Hecate has secrets of her own. And the truth is not always an easy thing.





	i once performed a holy rite

**Author's Note:**

> Me again :) Cannot stop writing fic it seems. You guys are killing me with your comments on 'help me when i fall' I honestly cannot believe how enthusiastic and kind your notes are. I'm really moved by the support. <3 
> 
> This one is...darker. TW are there for a reason, so please make sure you read them. There's no sexual assault in this fic but there are conversations that could potentially make the TW necessary. 
> 
> I wrote 90% of this before A New Dawn, as it takes place immediately after Spelling Bee, but honestly A New Dawn didn't really change how I felt about their dynamic all that much (but come scream at me about it in the comments or on tumblr at always-la-belle-epoque because I def have Opinions). xo
> 
> Title is once again from MUNA's song Around U.

It had been a foolish thing to do, she decides later that night after Pippa has flown back to that school of hers and the students are all tucked up into bed. Foolish, and reckless, and so, so regrettable that she’s nearly ill once the consequences of her actions finally catch up with her.

She knows she won’t be sleeping tonight.

Instead she sits up, in the hard, straight-backed chair at her desk - like she has so many nights when she’s wracked with guilt and self loathing - and buries herself in her work.

She tries not to think of how it had felt to have Pippa in her arms again, to hold her close and feel the press of her body against her own, to breathe in her smell, hardly changed in the course of thirty years - No. She mustn't think about holding Pippa. Mustn’t ever allow herself to remember the feel of her skin or her touch or -

Tightening her grip, she presses the tip of her quill into her thumb and concentrates on the pain to halt her line of thought, trying not to imagine Pippa waiting to greet her at Pentangle’s next Friday. Or the look on her face when she realizes Hecate isn’t going to show. Again.

 _It’s for her own good_ , she reminds herself. Reminds herself for the thousandth time since she’d seen Pippa off earlier with a second brief hug and the promise to come for tea. Only to turn away and realize she’d let her dangerous heart make a fool of herself once again.

Breathing sharply through her nose, she pushes a little harder on the quill nib until her eyes smart.

It should be enough, her life now. She has the school and the rigor of her daily routine - she’s fit and disciplined and devoted to The Craft. It should suffice. She’s made a place for herself in the world so long as she clenches down and grinds to dust any longing within her heart.

Forcing herself to release the nib, she focuses on her grading to such a degree that it takes her a moment to register the knocking at her door. It’s late - on a Friday night no less - which means it could only be Ada wishing to speak with her about some school matter or another.

With a sharp sigh, she flicks her wrist in the door’s direction and hears it swing open and then close. Still, she’s in no mood for company and doesn’t look up, preferring to let the silence stretch as she continues to mark responses on the third form term projects.

Though it’s not like Ada to hold back from plunking herself down and attempting to foist cream cakes upon her moments after entering, especially if it’s to soften any late night news which is so rarely positive. In fact, the room is so quiet she wonders if anyone came in at all. Slowly she raises her head.

And looks up at a windblown Pippa Pentangle.

“I thought you’d left.” She manages, her stomach bottoming out.

“I came back.”

Hecate is on her feet before she realizes, crossing around the desk as Pippa watches, her resolution cast aside at the mere existence of Pippa’s presence before her.

She curses herself as she comes and stands too close, aches to place her hands on Pippa’s hips, aches to hold her.

Her hands twitch at her sides and Pippa closes the distance instead.

Without the weight of half a dozen curious students’ eyes upon them, the embrace is intimate in a new way, Pippa’s fingers sliding around her back to grip at the fabric of her dress, pressing against her, holding her longer, closer.

She can’t help but turn her head, to bury it in Pippa’s shoulder, to breath her in. Her lips just brush Pippa’s neck it’s enough to jolt her backwards and away until both distance and silence hang between them.

“What are you doing here?”

Pippa’s eyes don’t move from her face.

“I couldn’t wait another week to see you. After today I needed to - I had to make sure -” she pauses to draw a deep breath. “Hecate, you can’t _possibly_ think that I didn’t want you - that I was ashamed of -”

Hecate can’t stand to hear her say it.

“You should leave. You shouldn’t be here.” Her stomach is roiling to the point of painful and she pulls her robe around her a little more tightly, like a defense, like a ward.

A small frown rises between Pippa’s eyebrows but she remains standing where she is.

“Hecate -” She begins, her voice warm, but falters when Hecate turns her head sharply away.

“I regret if I gave you a false impression earlier today.”

Pippa draws in a breath, sharp and hard, and pain lances through her heart.

“But I thought -” Pippa trails off, and Hecate can only shake her head tightly.

She doesn’t expect the sound that bursts from Pippa, strangled, as though it’s come without permission. It slices through her but she can’t stop now, has to see this through. For Pippa.

“You should leave,” she repeats, and then, softer, “I’m sorry.” And she is. So dreadfully, dreadfully sorry.

But Pippa balls her hands into fists and slaps them against her thighs in frustration, stepping forward in anger which Hecate counters with a step back.

“I don’t understand this - I’ve never understood this - Hecate -” Pippa’s voice is so raw and she can’t help but look at her, to fill her eyes with the sight of her if it’s going to be for the last time. Tears cling to her eyelashes and Hecate wants to kiss them away. Kiss her eyelids and her cheek and her neck and - _No_.

“What’s there to understand.” Hecate grinds out, heart shedding at her own words.

“You were my best friend,” Pippa says carefully, and Hecate watches her swallow, momentarily transfixed.

“ _More_ than my best friend - the night before the broomstick tournament- I thought that we were -”

She sucks in a breath and her face crumples. “I crossed a line that night.”

Pippa’s voice is laced with a self loathing Hecate’s never heard before and coldness creeps into her stomach. She can’t shake her head fast enough. “You didn’t.” She whispers. “You _didn’t.”_

She can see the anger flare again behind Pippa’s eyes. “So what then? I don’t understand. Tell me, Hecate, what could have been - so _wrong -_ with what we both felt that night. What we did that night.”

Hecate shuts her eyes, tries to find restraint. Tries to block the memories of Pippa. _Pippa above her on the bed, her mouth and body moving against her own, the sweet purity of the joy it all brought. Pippa below her, arching up, skin warm and soft -_ No _._

Pippa pauses before her, hands restless at her sides.

“When you didn’t show up that morning - at the tournament - I waited and waited. I thought you were just finishing up your valedictorian speech for the next day - I thought you were coming to meet me. When you left to go back to your room that morning you said you were coming to _meet_ me.”

Pippa’s voice breaks.

“But when you didn’t show, I was frantic. I imagined the worst, but it was _nothing_ compared to what I found - broom gone, books gone, clothes gone.”

She’s crying now, openly and painfully and Hecate can hardly draw breath.

“The only kindness you left was the speech on your bare bedside table - a speech that I had to read the next day pretending that it was my own, pretending that _I_ was the best witch in our year - that you hadn’t just torn out my heart and taken it with you to god knows where you went.”

Pippa turns to face her again and the pain in her eyes makes Hecate back up further, knees like water.

“Hecate, I could still _feel you_ \- standing in front of all those people, all their eyes on me - and I could still feel where you’d been - been inside of me.” Pippa’s voice is hardly more than a whisper and she looks so broken that Hecate hates herself more with every passing moment.

But she’s not finished. Hurt and anger flare within her once more and she resumes her pacing.  

“I looked! I looked for you. Everywhere. All summer. And when I found you, you told me that it had been a mistake, that I was being foolish. That you didn’t want to see me anymore, Hecate - you sent me away - _why?”_

Closing her eyes, Hecate searches for the blow that will end this - end it all, send Pippa running as far away from her as she could be. Where she should be.

She turns her voice to steel. “I assumed you were just practicing for your future husband, I hardly thought it mattered

Pippa rounds on her, furious.

“How _dare_ you cheapen it?! How dare you tell me what I felt! That night was - it was - Hecate, you were there. I told you I loved you - again, and again, and _again._ And you said it back - each and every time. And the way we - how we - I don’t know why you are running from this. Was it all a lie? A game? Tell. Me. _Why._ ”

Her back hits the wall, the world seemingly falling out from beneath her feet. And something inside of her breaks.

Around the roaring in her ears, she struggles to find her voice. "I had no choice.” She tries to draw breath. Tries to focus on Pippa blurry in front of her. Acid races through her blood and the words pour out her as she trembles from the force of the long held secret tumbling loose.

“They must have seen - they must have heard us. I was on my way down to the lake. I was on my way to _you_.”

She feels her knees give out and slides down the wall, whole body spasming as fear and panic take control. She feels rather see than sees Pippa draw closer.

“Hecate, what -“

“They cornered me.”

“Who? _Who_ did?”

She’s gasping, sick poison coursing through her.

“Vicki Nightwing and Opal Webstone. They said that they would tell. That they would say - that they would say -”

She breaks off and Pippa gapes at her, chest heaving.

“Hecate. What did they say.”

Hecate’s weeping now, a decades old terror taking hold of her and pulling her apart from the inside.

“They said that they would tell everyone I was obsessed with you. That I followed you around like - like - a heated _dog_. That I was a degenerate. They said that you had never liked me and they would tell e-everyone that I f-forced myself on you.”

Tears are pouring down Pippa’s face, and she too sinks to the ground, her fingers digging into the carpet beneath her.

“No. _No._ Hecate, _no.”_

She crawls forward and tries to put her arms around her, but Hecate skitters further back against the wall like frightened, cornered prey.

“No - no - don’t touch me. Please, please, you mustn’t touch me.”

Pippa backs off immediately, kneeling beside her, her breath coming in gasps.

“How could they - how _could_ they. They had no right - oh, god, Hecate, _no_.” She has one hand over her heart and one hand over her mouth, curling in on herself, eyes never leaving Hecate’s face.

“I would have told them the truth - we were both seventeen, both consenting, we were in _love_ \- I would never have let them -”

“You were already on the broomstick course - they said - they said that if I didn’t leave, if I went near you again, they would tell all the parents while we were flying, that by the time our display was done everyone would know. They said that of course I thought you loved me back, that I was sick, delusional. That I was going to ruin you.”

Pippa looks like she wants to reach for her again but instead brings her hands to her knees where her fingers dig into the fabric of her pink dress.

“And instead they ruined you, Hiccup. Look what they have _done_ to you. All these years -” her voice cracks.

Hecate’s lips tremble so hard she can hardly get the words out. “I don’t know what’s true anymore.”

Pippa gasps for air around her tears and moves to sit next to her, a careful distance between them, but close enough that she’s not out of reach.

“What do you remember about that night, Hiccup? Can you talk about it?” She settles so that her shoulder is to the wall, facing Hecate.

“I - “ Hecate sucks in a breath but can’t go on, her stomach clenching too hard to focus on anything else.

“It’s okay, darling. You’ve done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Just breathe, that’s it.” From the corner of her eye Hecate sees Pippa place a hand on her own stomach and she watches as it rises and falls, trying to mimic the motion.

“You kissed me.” She musters finally, eyes sliding shut against tears.

“Yes, darling. I kissed you.”

“It was raining.” Hecate feels something stir within her, a tiny growing thing buried deep within.

“That’s right,” Pippa’s voice is fond and she takes up the thread. “It was _pouring_. We’d tried to get one last practice in and by the time we were done we were soaked. Breath in again for me, Hiccup, there you go.”

She does, and then, “I was worried we would be rained out the next day.” And lets her breath trail out as Pippa does the same.

“And again, another breath. That’s right, and you were stuck on that speech of yours. Nervous about the crowds for both days - go ahead and let it out.”

Hecate exhales, eyes still shut tight. “We went straight to your room - I don’t know why we didn’t use the Drying Spell.”

“And inhale. I do. Or at least I know why I didn’t suggest it. And exhale.”

“Why?”

“Inhale, that’s perfect. Well, I know I didn’t say anything because I rather liked the look of you - hair dark and wet down your back, the way your display robes stuck to you in places - exhale, Hiccup, there you go, that’s it.”

Hecate let’s out a huge gusting breath and manages to crack an eye open to look over at Pippa. “I - I have to say I felt the same.”

She sucks in a breath again at Pippa’s prompting. “I know, darling, I’d figured that out.”

Hecate’s breath stutters they sit quietly for a moment simply breathing.

“I’d wanted to kiss you for so long,” Pippa admits after a while, hand dropping from over her stomach to nervously rub against her knee. “And it just all seemed like so much at once - the competition the next day, graduation the day after, leaving school. I felt like we were on the brink of our whole lives that night.”

“We were laughing,” Hecate whispers, curling her fingers into fists against her stomach. “I don’t remember why, but we were laughing.”

“I remember standing so close to you -

“There were raindrops on your eyelashes.” Hecate’s eyes slide shut again.

“Yours too.”

And Hecate _remembers_. Pippa drawing closer, her fingers cold on against her waist, her eyes warm and bright and then - and then -

“I never wanted that moment to end,” she whispers.

“Nor I.”

She allows herself to remember more - Pippa’s mouth warm against her own, and later warm against her chilled skin. How careful she’d been, how gentle. How slowly she’d unbuttoned Hecate’s top and slid her hands around her back drawing her closer. How the whole room had felt like a secret world, time standing still; the grey darkness outside, the heat within, the sound of rain against the windows.  

She feels her stomach contracting again.

“I didn’t force you?” It’s little more than a breath, tight and anxious, and she drops her head down to her knees, digging her fingernails into her palms.

“ _No._ Hecate, no. That couldn’t be further from the truth. You said you didn’t know what was true. But what is _true_ is that I loved you. Simply, purely, honestly, loved you. I -”

She breaks off, her voice trembling. “I thought I was going to marry you. Someday.” Her sounds very small and Hecate’s head snaps up.

“ _What?_ ”

Pippa shrugs and blinks up at the ceiling, wiping away tears with shaking fingers.

“Pippa.”

“I know you probably think it’s foolish. It’s just - I couldn't imagine my life without you, from being separate from yours. We were planning on moving to London together, right? Maybe you think it was just a schoolgirl dream, but I thought I’d be with you, always. Forever.”

Hecate feels like her chest is going to explode and she drops her forehead back to her knees.

“How could you ever want to be with me.” It’s little more than a whisper and Pippa makes a soft noise in response.

“Because you’re my _Hiccup_. Because you always have shown one face to the world and another to me. It’s your integrity really - your absolute drive to do the right thing. I think you think it makes you hard, but inside, Hecate, is the gentlest, most brilliant, dearest soul. You’re like a spark in the night, my darling. It’s so very easy to love you, I can scarcely remember a time in my life when I did not.”

Swallowing, Hecate tries keep the tears back but they come again unbidden, soaking into her robe where her forehead presses against her knees as Pippa continues.

“You were so gentle with me that night - so tender, so patient. I remember you kept asking if each kiss, each new touch was okay. You asked almost as often as you said you loved me. I remember because of what that did to me - how it made me feel. I wanted you, I knew I wanted you, but somehow your regard for me made what passed between us all the more beautiful. Hecate, I felt so safe. So very safe with you.”

Pippa’s crying again now too, and Hecate reaches out blindly and places her hand on the floor between them, the stone cold against her burning palm. She feels Pippa’s hand move next to hers - nearly touching but not quite.

“Please,” she whispers, moving so that it presses next to Pippa’s, trying and failing to balance her desperate heart against the years of raging fear.

Pippa’s hand presses back. “May I?” she murmurs, fingertips just brushing her own. And Hecate slowly turns her hand over and allows Pippa to lace their fingers together. Breathes in and breathes out at her first true acceptance of intimacy in thirty years.

Her instinct is to contract, to pull back, but she sucks in a breath and tries to process Pippa’s words, tries to let them drown out _degenerate_ and _delusional_ and _force._ Tries to focus on Pippa’s hand in her own after all this time, tangled within hers as it had been all those years ago, lying together in a twin bed, bodies close and eyes shining.

She raises her head, heart squeezing at the way Pippa is watching her while biting her lip, tears still sliding down her cheeks.

“I don’t know how - I don’t know how anymore to -” The words she wants to say stick in her throat and she hates that she can’t just let go - let go and fall into Pippa’s arms, into her bed, let herself have this, let herself believe this.

“It’s alright, Hecate. You don’t have to do a thing. You just have to be.”

Hecate shakes her head sharply and drops her eyes, embarrassed. “But what about you? What about what you want?”

Sighing softly, Pippa shifts forward a bit so Hecate can see her more fully. “I want to kiss you. I want to make love to you, like we did that night. I want to be so gentle with you, make you feel so good. I want you to feel safe the whole time. But I do not want to push you, for any of it. First and foremost, I just want to be close to you, everything else doesn’t matter. I want to hold her hand, just like this, if it feels alright to you. That’s all I want. For you to feel alright near me.”

She brushes her thumb carefully over the back of Hecate’s hand.

“But I can also understand if  - because of what they did, how they manipulated you, those _snakes_ \-  if it’s too painful. If you need to not be around me. I wouldn’t love you any less for it. After all that’s been done to you - I couldn’t be the one to hurt you more.”

Hecate looks back up at her, eyes stinging.

“But they hurt you too.” She finds her fingers tightening around Pippa’s, and Pippa half laughs half stumbles on a sob.

“Oh my darling, that is why I love you so. Even after all these years. Your heart. They took it and filled it with such doubt, such utter violence against yourself, and yet, still, it loves.”

At the surprise on Hecate’s face, Pippa smiles a little. “You are remarkable, I hope you can someday see that.” She looks down at their hands and her smile becomes wistful. “I hope, maybe, you will feel you can let me help you come to see that.”

There’s a rushing in Hecate’s ears and she feels dizzy and at war with herself, but Pippa merely squeezes her hand softly.

“You don’t have to have an answer tonight, if you need time -”

“I want to try.” Hecate’s voice is gravelly and she squeezes her eyes shut, pushing down panic and holding Pippa’s hand tighter. “I don’t know if I can be what you need - I don’t know how to be -”

But Pippa moves so that Hecate’s hand is cradled between both of hers.

“All I need is for you to feel safe. I don’t need anything from you other than than for you to be who you are, even if that’s someone who’s lived thirty years looking over their shoulder, scared to be themselves. I want to be next to you, if that’s what you want, too.”

“But what if they find out?”

“Vicki Nightwing and Opal Webstone? Those _toads._ If they come near you ever again, so help me Merlin, I will invoke Section Seven on them so fast they won’t know what’s coming for them. And I will duel them. And I will win. I will strip them of everything, _everything_ , that they hold dear.”

Hecate stares at her, eyebrows near her hairline. She can’t help the feeling bubbling up inside her at the sight of Pippa, so impassionsed that she’s risen up on her knees, cheeks flushing and voice rough with fervor. It might be joy, but, she thinks, it is also a lot like love.

Back straight and eyes blazing, Pippa continues. “And I will do the same to anyone, _anyone_ , who dares say anything about the way I feel for you.” She pauses, looking shyly down at Hecate. “How I hope you still feel for me.”

Unfurling herself a bit, Hecate reaches out a hesitant hand so that both their hands are clasped between them.

“Yes.” Their eyes connect and Pippa let’s her eyes flutter shut with a deep exhale that tugs the corners of her mouth upward.

“Hecate,” she says, softly, “what do you need most right now?”

At Pippa’s words she suddenly realizes how exhaustion sits heavy within her, how sore her muscles are from trembling so, how wrung out she is from the emotional whirlwind of the day.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she whispers, ducking her head and blushing, struggling to not hate herself at her own admission of weakness.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Hecate nods and it feels like pleading. But Pippa squeezes her hands, before sliding her own up to Hecate’s elbows and helping her upright. They stand together, close, but not too close, and Pippa seems to be holding back, waiting.

“I don’t think I can -” Hecate begins and breaks off, desperately embarrassed. “I’m not ready to - I’m sorry -”

“It’s alright, Hiccup, you never have to be sorry for needing space or time. I’m just so glad you feel you can ask for it.”

Raising her head, Hecate looks into Pippa’s eyes and nearly sags against her. “You’ll really stay though? You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No. Absolutely not. Worried, certainly. In love with you, definitely. But not mad.”

“In love?” Hecate whispers.

And Pippa hands slide the return path down her arms to tangle with her fingers again. “Madly in love?” She looks like she’s about to laugh a bit but bites her lip, and Hecate’s feels a warm blush fan up across her cheeks. She looks shly down at their hands but then frowns.

“You should be mad. I hurt you all those years.”

“No, Hecate, they hurt me. Pretending to be my friends, pretending as if they had any idea - _any_ idea at all. They hurt you, which hurts me even more. But -” she’s chewing on her lip again and seems uncertain, “-did you - did you really believe that’s how I felt?”

Hecate shakes her head rapidly, fingers gripping Pippa’s. “No. Not at first. I was devastated about leaving you - I cried so hard I made myself ill as I packed. But I couldn’t - wouldn’t let them drag you into this.”

“You were trying to protect me.” Tears are leaking down Pippa’s face once more and Hecate feels the hot salt of her own burn down her cheeks.

“I was scared.”

“Of course you were - you had every right to be. I just wish that I’d known, I would have fought for you - I _would_ have. You know that? Hecate?”

Bowing her head, Hecate feels hot shame bloom inside her. “I wasn’t ready for all that - to have something that was purely ours be so public. Especially in that way. To have to defend how I felt about you, do prove that I wasn’t - I wasn’t -”

“You weren’t.” Pippa says firmly.

Hecate shrugs jerkily. “But it hardly took long at all before I was wondering if what they said was true. You were so beautiful, and smart, and well-liked. And I was - I was -”

“Better than they could ever hope to be,” Pippa finishes, chest heaving with repressed emotion. She released one of Hecate’s hands to wipe at her tears and Hecate misses her touch immediately, reaching out to take her hand back once she’s finished and Pippa lets out a small choked sound.

“I never stopped loving you.” Hecate whispers.

Saying it outloud releases something within her for the second time that night and she pulls away, turning back towards the wall, arms tight around her middle for protection, shoulders hunching up.

“Oh, Hiccup.”

It only makes her cry harder. Years of pain and fear and self-hatred pouring down her face.

She feels Pippa step closer, can almost feel her warm against her back, but Pippa refrains from reaching for her, and Hecate cries from gratitude as well.

“I don’t _deserve_ you,” she chokes out, and Pippa makes that same small noise.

“What you deserve, Hecate, is so much more than what this life has given you.” She feels her move so that she’s leaning against the wall, facing her. And when she ducks her head to capture her eyes, Hecate allows herself to find an anchor in Pippa once more, straightening slightly.

“And you deserve to rest now - you look exhausted, Hiccup.” She smiles and Hecate let’s her own mouth turn up a bit at the truth of it.

“May I help you get settled?” Pippa’s regarding her carefully and Hecate flushes but nods, finding her voice. “Would you like to borrow some night things?”

Pippa acquiesces and Hecate nods her head in the direction of her bedroom, blushing further as she turns and Pippa follows.

She gets her settled with a soft gray pajama set which Pippa transfers into, laughing a little as she bends to roll up the cuffs and sleeves while Hecate turns down the bed. Feeling self-conscious, Hecate perches on the edge and twists her hands together, biting her lip when Pippa comes to stand before her.

“Only if this is doesn’t feel like too much, Hiccup. I can sleep on your study couch, I don’t want you to feel rushed or crowded in any way.”

“Please,” Hecate can’t believe the pleading note in her voice. “Please stay.”

Pippa smiles warmly and moves a little closer, gesturing at where Hecate’s hair is still piled atop her head. “May I?”

Blushing once more, Hecate nods and Pippa comes to stand beside her, easing the pins from her hair with neat fingers. “I’ve always loved your hair,” she sighs, as it tumbles down around Hecate’s shoulders. “You’re so gorgeous, do you know that, Hiccup?”

Hecate shakes her head, eyes fluttering shut as Pippa’s fingers unspool her braid and sweep through her hair. “Well, you are.” Pippa says, like the matter is settled, smoothing her hand down through Hecate’s hair one last time before crossing and sliding under the covers at the far end of the bed.

Heart hammering, Hecate stands and spells out the lights before discarding her robe and sliding in as well. There’s plenty of space between them and when she feels Pippa’s hand move to rest in the center of the bed she reciprocates until their fingers are just touching.

“Will you be able to sleep, you think?” Pippa murmurs and Hecate nods before realizing Pippa can’t see her in the dark. “I think so.” Despite the adrenaline of being so close to Pippa, exhaustion is making her head heavy on the pillow.

“I’m right here, if you need me. I’m not going anywhere.” Pippa shifts and bit and Hecate relaxes. She’s too tired to think, too tired to feel afraid.

She sleeps better than she has in thirty years.

________

It’s like the weight that has lived around Pippa’s heart for the past three decades has dissolved like a storm in the night. There’s still pain - every time Hecate shys away, everytime she gets that look on her face, the one Pippa knows to mean Hecate doesn’t believe she is worthy of love, of kindness, every time it seems she wants to reach for her but resists - but Pippa can face that. Can soothe it with soft words and unwavering resolution until it passes and she softens.

It’s a slow dance, unwinding the nightmare that Hecate’s lived for all of her adult womanhood. She learns quickly how to express affection but never push. And at least she’s always been able to read Hecate quite easily. It helps now, a vital asset in understanding the border lines between them - when to touch, when not to touch, when to speak and when to listen.

And as Hecate grapples with both desiring and fearing intimacy, Pippa follows her lead, heart swelling and swelling and swelling simply from being back by her side.  

“I’ve always loved your hands,” she says one evening, when Hecate’s dared reach over and take one of hers across the chessboard. She slides her other hand across the table and Hecate takes that one too, lacing their fingers together and Pippa smiles.

“They’re so elegant. Really beautiful, slim but strong.” Hecate is blushing, but she holds Pippa’s gaze and it’s so much progress that Pippa feels she might cry. “I like holding them.” Pippa says simply and Hecate smiles. Really smiles. Doesn’t pull away.

They return to the game, and Pippa files away that moment, turning it over and over in her mind with a warm heart.

______

They go to the beach.

Hecate’s never been, which is easy enough for Pippa to believe. Sometimes she hurts for Hecate so much - for her rigid, severe childhood and all the strictly regimented days of her life between then and now.

But Hecate seems happy enough to go where Pippa goes, so at the end of term she plans a day trip for them and watches, pleased, at the look on Hecate’s face as she looks out at the sea for the first time.

“I never knew,” Hecate sighs, emotion in her eyes, “that anything could be this beautiful.”

“I know the feeling,” Pippa says, not looking at the sea at all.

Turning her head slowly, Hecate flushes, meeting Pippa’s laughing eyes. She lets her shoulder bump against Pippa’s, lets her fingers ghost over Pippa’s, and Pippa glows.

They walk down to the beach and she pulls off her shoes, cocking an eyebrow over at Hecate who bashfully mimics her, eyes lighting up at the feeling of the sand beneath her feet.

As Hecate slowly approaches the water, Pippa worships the way she’s kept her hair loose, the way it flows down her back catching in the breeze, blesses Hecate’s eyes as they slide shut as the tide flows up around her ankles. Heart full, Pippa comes to stand next to her watching as she breaths in the sea air and and releases it, eyes still shut, for once tranquil.

She’s too enraptured to notice the slightly larger wave rushing in until it pulls the sand from beneath her feet and slaps against her, knocking her off balance. Pippa squeals and Hecate reaches out and grabs her arm, holding her steady. They’re both laughing as the water swirls back out into sea, and Hecate doesn’t release her arm even as they head a little further up the shore and plunk down in the sand.

Instead she twines her arm through Pippa’s, more in her space than she has been since their last embrace the night Hecate’s truth came out.

Biting her lip to try to temper the smile that wants to beam across her face like the sun above, Pippa looks down at where they’re joined.

“You’ve got new freckles,” she observes, examining where Hecate’s forearm is bare below the bold three-quarters length sleeve of her blouse. “I didn’t think you ever saw the sun?” She teases gently, feeling reassured when Hecate’s eyes glitter in amusement.

“I’ve been known to garden.” She says in that way of hers that makes a perfectly pleasant task sound distasteful. And Pippa knows that she’s only doing it to make her laugh. That Hecate loves being out in the greenhouses or the herb gardens, sourcing potions ingredients and feeling close to the elements of the earth.

Slowly, Pippa reaches up with her free arm and traces between the small dark dots, noting how Hecate’s breath shifts, how goosebumps appear beneath her fingers.

“It’s like a constellation,” she glances up at her and smiles.

“Not any constellation I know,” Hecate counters, lifting a brow.

“No,” Pippa agrees, smoothing the goosebumps down and continuing to journey from freckle to freckle. “A new one then. After your name sake: Hecate. Goddess of magic and light.” She looks up at her. “They called her ‘the tender-hearted,’ did you know?”

Hecate stares at her, very still. “She helped Demeter in her search to find Persephone. Then became Persephone’s companion - her light in the dark, a guide for souls between two worlds.” She lays her palm flat against the bare arm and squeezes gently when Hecate shivers.

“Just like you. A light in my dark.” Pippa pauses before continuing, “When I’m with you, I feel just like Persephone - returning to spring after so long in winter.” Tipping her head up she smiles at Hecate who is looking rather damp around the eyes.

Hecate reaches over and covers Pippa’s hand on her arm with her own, and they sit side by side, watching the clouds scuttle by the sun, temporary shadows against the shining water.

______

By far her favorite thing to do is intersperse compliments throughout their visits, glowing bright with love each time Hecate ducks her head and blushes, looking more and more pleased with Pippa’s attentions as time passes.

 _“You have a beautiful smile,”_ gets her cheeks the color to match the sunrise one summer dawn when they’re out picking newly bloomed harebells in the morning mist.

Or when an afternoon summer rainstorm turns Hecate anxious and unsure, _“I just like being near you, it makes me happy_ ,"relaxes her enough to curl up beside Pippa on the couch with a book, contented, for the moment.

One day when they’re both prepping for the following term, Pippa leans over and peers down at the complicated grid of lessons plans Hecate is producing. Resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, she waits until Hecate slowly turns to look at her before saying quiet seriously, _“I’m continuously inspired by your dedication to your students and their learning, Hiccup.”_ She’s amazed when it gets her a nearly goofy grin and Hecate pours them both more tea, blushing furiously only when she misses the cup and floods the saucer, which Pippa lets go unmentioned.

______

There’s a bit of an incident one night around midsummer when Pippa offers her a drink only to be met with a tense, “ _No, thank you,”_ and a very cagey Hecate afterwards. She sets down the bottle of wine she’d brought with her and moves to sit next to Hecate on the couch, taking in the twist of her fingers and the stiffness of her spine.

“You don’t drink, do you?”

Hecate shakes her head tightly, fingers moving to iron invisible wrinkles from her dark skirt.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She won’t press the matter, but she’s learned enough by know when Hecate wants to express something but struggles to admit to it.

Hecate shrugs but her jaw unclenches slightly.

“I haven’t had a drink since - since -”

“Since I stole a bottle of witches brew from the staff Yuletide party our fifth year, snuck it into your room, and forced you to -”

“You didn’t force me to do anything.” And Hecate suddenly smiles, relaxing further.

“No,” says Pippa slowly as she remembers.

Remembers Hecate’s highly puritanical father and his abhorrence of ‘The Devil’s Liquor’ - or really anything that could be considered fun. How he had all but turned Hecate into little more than wind up doll before she’d even reached school age. How that night, Hecate had hesitated slightly before grabbing the brew from Pippa and taking a mighty swig. She’d emerged sputtering, but there’d been a glint of firm defiance in her eyes as she’d passed the bottle back.

It had marked a shift, that moment, in Hecate. A subtle rebellion against the constraints of always having to be perfect. And for Pippa, a realization that she’d fallen desperately, desperately in love.

She tells Hecate as much, reaching out to take her hand as the tears come. Holding it gently until Hecate herself is ready to share.

“I couldn’t drink after what happened - what if I - what if I lost control?” Hecate looks horrified at the thought but Pippa tilts her head to study her.

“When did you realize you felt more for me than friendship?” She’s prepared for the flush and the way Hecate nearly curls in on herself, and brushes her thumb over Hecate’s knuckles to reassure her.

“I think sometime during our third year, maybe fourth.” She shrugs looking embarrassed. “I didn’t know what it was for a long time. It’s not like I had any other friends to compare how I was feeling.”

Pippa’s heart breaks a little but she shifts on the couch so that she can turn and look at Hecate squarely. “So that night - the night of the staff party - you already knew you had feelings for me?”

Slowly, Hecate nods.

“Hecate, you felt that way for me and you didn’t let on at all - when I realized how I felt that night I was terrified you’d sense it. I couldn’t stop blushing, or stammering -”

“I thought that was just from the brew?” Hecate’s mouth quirks up and Pippa playfully swats the air by her shoulder.

“Oh, _hush._ But what I’m trying to say is, I had no idea how you felt, even though I so badly wanted you to feel the same way as I did. You didn’t ravage me then, and even if we’d had more than a few sips apiece, you would never have. It would go against everything you stand for - you would never even hold someone’s _hand_ without their express permission. And not even as a result from the fear of yourself those wicked girls instilled in you, but because you are _good._ Because you know what it’s like not to have control in your life, your father made sure you never had any agency. And while that’s different than this, it still taught you to put great value in other people’s free will. Even if it’s so often at the expense of your own.”

Hecate’s eyes are shining when Pippa finishes, and she twines her fingers through Pippa’s bringing them up to rest just above her heart. Pippa can feel it thumping beneath her palm and they both blush.

“Thank you, Pipsqueak.” Pippa smiles at the emergence of her nickname.

“Would you - maybe sometime - would you like to -” Hecate sounds very nervous and Pippa smiles encouragingly at her. “Would you have a drink with me sometime? Just the two of us? Would you...trust me enough?”

“Hecate, I trust you more than anyone in the world, it’s not about that. In fact it’s quite the reverse. I’d be honored that you’d trust _me_ enough to try something that makes you feel vulnerable together. I’d be honored, really.”

“Really?” Hecate looks bashful and Pippa brings their hands back down to rest between them on the couch, returning to the safety of a middle ground while Hecate works through this new foray into emotional intimacy.

“Really. Anytime you like.”

______

So when Hecate arrives at Pentangle’s the next week with the bottle Pippa had left on her bookcase, Pippa pulls out the chessboard and produces two glasses. She pours them each a drink and chats merrily about her day, knowing how their routine will calm any apprehension about Hecate might have.

They’re well into their second game by the time Hecate takes her first sip and her eyebrows ascend to her hairline, nose wrinkling slightly.

“You get used to it,” Pippa laughs, reaching out to take a small sip from her own glass. They play on, Hecate tasting the wine a bit more here and there until they’re into their third game and she pauses, Rook in her hand, and stares down at her half full goblet.

“It’s good.” She says, eyes widening as though the glass has suddenly appeared there by magic. “I feel?” She tilts her head at Pippa and wrinkles her nose once more, much less from distaste this time.  

Pippa’s heart nearly bursts with adoration. “You feel?” She prompts and Hecate shakes her head.

“I feel like I’m going to lose this game.”

And Pippa laughs, long and hard and desperately happy. Hecate grins a little and places the Rook, allowing Pippa to soar her Queen across the board. “Check mate.” She grins.

“Cheeky,” Hecate sniffs but she doesn’t look unhappy. But then she reaches out a long finger and traces the edge of her glass, abrubtly shy.

“Is this alright?”

Pippa nods, “Very much so. Do you feel alright?”

Hecate gives a contented hum but frowns a bit. “You haven’t really touched your glass.”

Pippa blushes. “Well, it’s just that I wanted you to have fun tonight. And I wanted to make sure that if you didn’t have fun, I’d been in the position to make sure you were alright with a clear head.”

She watches Hecate’s eyes fill and hurriedly says, “And because it’s a rare chance indeed that I get to trounce you so easily at chess.”

Hecate laughs at that but brushes a tear from her eye. “I must be such a burden.”

Pippa gets up and crouches down in front her of chair. “No. No, Hecate. You never could be. I love seeing you happy, I love watching you get to do things you were too ruled by fear to get to experience before. I love being a part of your life.”

“Thank you.” Hecate says, so earnestly, and Pippa knows that it’s the wine, lowering her inhibitions, easing her tongue. But she also knows it’s heartfelt.

She rises and collects her glass and the bottle. “Come on now, bring your glass and let’s go up to the roof. Fresh air will do you good. Besides, we don’t want you to live up to how you got your nickname in the first place, do we, Hiccup?”

She doesn’t expect the laugh that bursts from Hecate, but it’s welcome and endearing, and they both smile at each other, flushed from more than just the wine.

“Alright then,” Hecate murmurs, and holds out a hand. Pippa takes it feeling like a teenager all over again, pulling her out of her chair and guiding her outside to lay side by side beneath the stars.

_________________

One afternoon, not long before the start of the new term, Pippa’s sorting through some mail when the door to her chambers opens and closes.

“Had a good flight then, Hiccup? The weather’s gorgeous.”

When there’s no answer, she turns and finds Hecate standing directly behind her, closer than usual. She runs her eyes over her, assessing, notes how her chest rises and falls a little more rapidly, how her eyes dart from Pippa’s lips to her mouth and back again. _Well. This is new._

“Hi.” She breaths, and Hecate swallows, eyes coming up to meet her own.

“Pippa.” It’s hardly more than a breath, and Pippa feels the atmosphere of the room shift further. She holds Hecate’s gaze and waits.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Hecate leans and and ghosts her lips across Pippa’s cheek. She draws back looking apprehensive, breath coming a little more unevenly, but at Pippa’s slight nod, ducks back in to kiss just below her first kiss in the hollow of her cheekbone. And then, her temple, and her eyelids, and then - and then - oh, so softly, oh, so sweetly, the corner of her mouth.

Pippa hardly breaths, afraid to break the moment, to cause Hecate’s insecurities to come crashing back down, but she sighs at each kiss, heart hammering in her chest. Hecate draws back enough to rest their foreheads together, hands still by her sides.

“Is this okay?”

Pippa wants so desperately to lean in an capture her lips, but resists and instead breaths, “More than okay.”

And Hecate closes the distance for her, lips meeting her own, trembling but certain.

She sighs into Hecate’s mouth as arms finally - finally - finally - come to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. And as always, she follows Hecate’s cues, brings her own hands up to splay gently across her back, waits until Hecate’s tongue sneaks out and brushes at her bottom lip before she allows herself to deepen the kiss, thrilling when Hecate lets out a small sound against her mouth.

They kiss slowly, like they have all the time in the world, like thirty years could come and go twice over without them noticing.

Finally Pippa pulls back and raises Hecate’s hand to her lips, kissing her palm. “I like kissing you,” and smiles at Hecate’s smile. She turns her hand and places kisses across her knuckles. “I like it an awful lot.”

Hecate bites her lip and brings her hands up to cup Pippa’s face, wiping at tears Pippa didn’t even realize she was crying until now. “I like it too,” she whispers, leaning in, replaces her fingers with her lips. When her mouth returns to Pippa’s it’s tinged with salt and Pippa kisses her, and kisses her, and kisses her until she tastes like Hecate again.

When they break a part Pippa brings her arms up to wrap around her, cupping the nape of her neck and brushing her fingers through where a few hairs have escaped from her bun. She dips in to kiss her on the cheek, pleased when it’s this small gesture, of all things, that makes Hecate finally blush.

“You said,” begins Hecate, voice slightly husky in a way that makes Pippa’s knees melt, “that you’d be honored for me to trust you enough to try something that makes me feel vulnerable?”

She breaks off blushing further and Pippa moves her fingers to her cheek, stroking gently.

“Yes, I did.”

“I -” Hecate tries, but struggles with the words.

“Do you feel vulnerable?” Hecate ducks a nod, eyes shifting down and away from Pippa’s.

“And do you trust me?” Her nod is instant, eyes returning with a silent plea.

“And you’ll tell me - at any time, for any reason, no matter how small you might think it - if you’re uncomfortable or want to stop?”

Another nod and Pippa brings their foreheads back together.

She feels Hecate shiver when they land from Pippa’s transfer to the bedroom, but remarkably she does not pull away. Instead, she simply grips Pippa’s bodice a little more tightly, breathing slowly as Pippa pivots them, guiding Hecate to sit upon the edge of the bed. Still, Hecate does not release her waist, causing her to following the motion and stand nearly between Hecate’s knees.

“Okay?”

Hecate raises her face and blinks up at her with a nod and the trust in her eyes makes Pippa’s breath catch in her throat. Her fingers flit up to pluck pins from Hecate’s hair, sighing as it tumbles down and floods her hands, falling long and soft and dark against Hecate’s shoulders.

Eyes warm, Hecate lifts her chin just slightly and Pippa takes her meaning, leaning down to kiss her, as thin-fingered hands guide her more closely into Hecate’s space. It doesn’t take long until Hecate is gasping between shivers and pulls back, looking slightly embarrassed for the first time that afternoon.

“Pippa, I -” Pippa watches the way Hecate’s hands move against her hips as she stalls, restless but yet a little curious. Smiling, Pippa guides them to the buttons that dot down the front of her dress and Hecate bites a lip, looks up and flushes as her fingers start move independently down the fabric.

Pippa moves back in to kiss her forehead, humming as Hecate finishes the task and pulls her closer, buries her face in Pippa’s stomach, arms sliding under her blouse just as they had so many years ago.

They hold each other for a moment, passion languid beneath the surface of this refound intimacy, until Pippa gasps at the feel of Hecate’s lips warm against her skin.

“Hiccup.” It’s all she can think to whisper; joy and adrenaline coursing through her, each nearly indistinguishable from the other.

Hecate lifts her face and Pippa ghosts her fingers across her cheek. “I like this too.”

Hecate stands in one movement, hands once more on Pippa’s hips, and suddenly they’re very, very close together. Half laughing, half gasping around a flash of arousal, Pippa realizes that her shoes have been spelled away and she drops down below Hecate’s height.

Her breath catches again, for now it’s Hecate’s face bending down to hers, Hecate’s mouth moving against hers, more assured with every kiss, and it’s Pippa who is shivering as she gasps against her. She feels hands tighten on her hips once more and hums as their positions are further reversed, as Hecate guides her down onto the bed and she arches up to kiss, and kiss, and kiss, until Hecate steps back and out of range.

Propped up on her elbows and panting, hair falling out of her chignon, dress open down the front, Pippa knows she must look quiet undone. But Hecate brings shaking fingers up to rest against her lips and looks down at her in wonder.

“Okay?” She echos Pippa from earlier. And Pippa knows it won’t be the last time it’s asked tonight by either of them.

“Very.”

Hecate hesitates for a moment before self-consciously bringing her fingers down to skate over the clasps of the corset that hugs her waist and Pippa reaches out a hand.

“Come here?”

Stepping slowly forward, Hecate doesn’t resist when she sits up to run her fingers slowly around to the front, unhooking each clasp. When she’s done, she pulls Hecate down for another kiss and can’t help the noise she makes when Hecate’s bold enough to nip gently at her lower lip. Or when Hecate’s hands move to her shoulders to peel her dress from around them. Down, down, down until Pippa has so lift her hips so it can slide free.

She lays back, suddenly exposed, heat coursing through her at the way Hecate is staring at her with a heaving chest.

Without breaking eye contact, Hecate reaches an arm behind her, pulling at her zipper until the long black dress falls as well. And Pippa’s heart freezes then pulses hot at the sight of Hecate, hair loose around her, eyes dark and glinting, standing in nothing but a thin black slip before her.

“Hecate Hardbroom. I think I have a bit of a crush on you.”

Cheeks the color of a flaming sunset, Hecate purses her lips in a way Pippa knows means she’s pleased but doesn’t know how to express it.

But when Hecate steps forward and slowly, oh, so slowly, lowers herself down to face Pippa on the bed, hand coming to rest delicately on her bare hip, Pippa can’t hold back the tear that streaks unbidden down her cheek.

Hecate moves to catch it with nimble fingers, and Pippa murmurs before unrest can flare in her eyes, “I’m just really happy to be here with you. You are so brave, my darling.” Leans forward and kisses her sweetly. “Beautiful.” Kiss. “And so courageous.” Kiss. “And I adore you.”

Hecate gasps a little and pushes her forehead against Pippa’s.

“I want this.” She whispers. “I want this.”

“I want you,” Pippa whispers back and Hecate lunges forward with a small cry, pushing Pippa back against the bed, lips and fingers insistant against her.

She kisses down the Pippa’s throat and sides her pentangle necklace to the side, tongue flicking out to sweep against the hollow behind it. Kisses lower, down Pippa’s collar bones, fingers coming up to rest against Pippa’s ribs but no further.  

“And you’d tell me,” she says suddenly, voice tight, “if there’s something you don’t want - if I do something -”

“Yes. I would. But right now, I would really like you to take this off,” she arches a little and Hecate flushes, but obligingly slides her hands around her, fiddling with the clap of her bra.

And it’s just as Pippa remembers. The gentleness, the reverence. The soft intones to request permission, the murmured affirmations, flowing between them, flooding Pippa with that same sensation of Hecate’s absolute consideration of her well-being, her desire.

She arches further at the feel of Hecate’s mouth against her skin, fingers against her breasts, the way her tongue is sweeping further and further down her stomach, making muscles shiver and jump in its wake.

She all but twitches when Hecate finds a particularly sensitive spot, but reaches down to cup the back of her head as she dips lower still, pulling gently until Hecate moves back up to her.

“Hi,” She breathes, slightly in awe of how blown open Hecate’s dark eyes are. Hecate simply responds with a kiss, then nuzzles at Pippa’s cheek trying to catch her breath. “I want to touch you -” she begins, and Pippa can feel the skin beneath her hands grow hot from Hecate’s embarrassment at her admission.

“I want that too,” she breathes, the desire that’s pooled low in her belly spiking through her. “Will you stay up here though? I want to be close to you.”

Hecate nods and shifts over her, a hand sliding down Pippa’s abdomen, eyes never leaving her own.

“You’d tell me?” Hecate says again, pausing her fingers just above the Pippa’s underwear, stroking softly.

“Yes.” She pulls Hecate in for a kiss, and then another and another, trying to hold back her desire, trying not to buck up as Hecate’s fingers slip beneath the garment, cool fingers against heated flesh. She shudders, and Hecate kisses her again before pressing their foreheads together.

“You don’t have to hold back, Pippa,” she whispers, voice trembling slightly. “Please, I want to show you how much you mean to me. You know I’m not very good at saying it. Please.”

Gasping into her mouth, Pippa lays back, pulls Hecate more firmly against her, allows herself to relax enough to shift her legs so Hecate’s cradled between them.

“Please, darling, please show me.”

And Hecate does, with careful, attentive motions until Pippa’s keening into her neck and rocking up against her. Hecate’s making small sounds as well, desperate and longing echos of her own cries and when she comes she bows so far upwards that she loses all sense of where she ends and where Hecate begins.

She knows she’s weeping, knows that she can do nothing to stop it, so wrung out and so relieved and so in love that she can’t even find her voice through the tears to _tell her_. Which suddenly seems vitally important.

Instead she wraps her arms even more tightly around Hecate, bringing her legs up around her until she’s encased. And when she’s calmer, Hecate brushes slightly sticky fingers under her chin until she raises her head and smiles tremulously up at her.

“Are you alright?” Hecate’s voice is raspy, here eyes rather damp as well.

“It just,” Pippa begins, tears falling fast and free once more, “It just feels like coming home.”

Hecate gives a cry and presses her mouth against her own, desperate and frenzied. Kisses her way back down Pippa’s stomach, sliding off the edge of the bed to kneel as she pulls Pippa to the edge, fingers hooking through her underwear to pull them off.

She looks up at Pippa then, eyes shy and bold all at once.

And memories of a younger Hecate kneeling beside her bed, long black hair down her naked back, dark brown eyes warm and a little bashful, flood her mind.

_“Are you sure you want to do this?”_

_The rain pounds against the glass and for a moment there’s only the sound of their irregular breathing. Hecate stares up  at her, a bit secretive and a bit pleased._

_“I read about it in a book once - and I - yes. I want.”_

_“Oh, of course you read a book.” They smile at each other, and Pippa bites her lip shifting a little at the way Hecate’s looking at her._

_“I love you.”_

_“I love you, too, Hiccup._

The memory is no less powerful than the image now: Hecate in her black slip, bathed in late afternoon sunlight, kneeling before her.

“Have you,” she ventures, breath catching a little as Hecate leans in and places a kiss just above her knee, “read any good books lately?”

Hecate looks startled for half a second before tilting her head back and laughing, as bright and as golden as the sun across the bed. She catches herself and a look sly passes across her face which Pippa enjoys far too much despite its brevity. “No, but I’m hoping you might lend me a few.”

Pippa laughs too. But then it’s just warmth, and joy, and toe-curling pleasure bringing her higher and higher until all she can think of is Hecate. Goddess of magic. A light in her dark.

_______________

Everything is the same and yet not the same at all. Her heart still flutters in her stomach at each brush against Pippa’s skin, she still feels a deep pull within her at the feeling of Pippa below her on the bed, warm and alive and wanting her. It’s tinged now with nerves that are more than simply from the newness of the act. Still, Pippa has always met her where she’s at; in their studies, in their friendship, and now, once again, in their intimacy.

And it does still feel _new_ to Hecate. The way Pippa’s body moves less hesitantly against her now than before, how she blushes less as well, calls out more. The way her skin, still soft, is slightly more weathered with time. How she curves ever so differently beneath Hecate’s hands, grown into her womanhood in a way that makes Hecate feel something tug low in her stomach.

Pippa’s hands are gentle in her hair and she shivers, kissing her way up the inside of one thigh before slowly pulling it over her shoulder. She looks up at Pippa then and feels quite undone. But Pippa’s eyes are warm and more she’s more than a little breathless, fingers gentle against her hair, stroking gently.

She imagined this moment with increasing frequency over the past few weeks. Finally, finally free to allow herself to _imagine_ , to _remember._ It’s more than just physical closeness and the recovery of her heart that Pippa has returned to her, but the freedom to think and feel what she likes without consequence. After so long without, it is the sweetest liberation.

“I love you.” Hecate breathes, and knows that Pippa knows how desperately she wants to restore them to a moment so long ago before heartbreak and hatred and hurt changed the very course of their lives.

Pippa curls her fingers in her hair and smiles down at her, more breathtakingly beautiful as Hecate could ever even remember her to be.

“I love you too, Hiccup.”

It’s all she needs, she thinks. To be loved by Pippa. She’s braver because of it. Bolder and more awakened, as if from an enchanted sleep. It doesn’t stop her hands from shaking slightly, or the uneven gallop of her heart, but no longer does she tremble out of fear alone.

She parts Pippa’s thighs a little further with gentle fingers. And Pippa tastes like spring, still tastes like spring. Mystical and earthly and sweet against her tongue. It’s more potent to her than any potion could be - this very act of this intimacy a more ancient power far greater than any spell or chant or rune. It fulfills her more truly than The Craft ever has.

 _This_ , she thinks, _is magic._

Above her Pippa writhes and calls to her - _Hecate,_  and _Hiccup,_ and _I love you._  Like a litany. Like an absolution. It fills Hecate with a singular urge to protect and to cherish, to move more deliberately against Pippa, to reach up a hand and tangle their fingers as Pippa shatters apart above her at the very moment Hecate feels made whole.

She wants to lay like this forever, head nuzzled against Pippa’s still trembling thigh, but Pippa’s tugging at her hair a little insistently and she untangles herself to crawl up the bed and settle by her side, suddenly a little shy.

But Pippa gathers her close, tucks her in against her. It a peculiar feeling, to feel secure, so warm and safeguarded. She listens as Pippa’s heartbeat returns to a more regular rhythm, head snug against her chest.

“You’re everything I could ever want, Hecate.” Pippa murmurs eventually, fingers gentle against her back.

She draws back and looks up at her, trying not to frown. “Aloof and overly rigid?”

“Considerate and gentle.” Pippa counters, fingers still sweeping across her back.  “Smart, and tender, and beautiful.”

Hecate flushes, trembling as Pippa kisses her.

How dare they take this from them, take years and years of this from them, she suddenly thinks and pushes herself up on her elbow, overwrought.

“Hecate?” Pippa immediately relaxes her grip and let’s Hecate slip through her arms, pushing herself up as well so she can catch her eyes.

But all Hecate can do is shake her head, hot bitter tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks.

“Oh sweetheart,” Pippa doesn’t reach for her but Hecate wants her to, craves the closeness and the assurance of Pippa’s embrace. She leans towards her, trying to communicate, failing to find the words as she so often does. But Pippa understand, as she always seems to, and catches her up in her arm to hold her close, pulling her nearly into her lap as she whispers sweet words into her ear.

“We could have had this, all this time.” Hecate finally gasps, fingers tight against Pippa’s back, head buried in her neck. “I never should have believed them, I’m so sorry, Pip-s-squeak. They took our whole lives from us.”

But Pippa cradles her cheeks between her hands and raises it so that their lips are nearly touching.

“Not our whole lives, Hiccup.” She kisses her on the nose and Hecate sniffles, feels foolish and like a child, but then Pippa kisses her properly, pulling her lower lip into her mouth and sucking and Hecate arches. Not so childlike after all. The kiss leaves her disoriented and hazy, something hot pulsing down below her grief.

“They tried to destroy you, Hecate,” Pippa whispers, breath against her ear before leaning in to kiss just beneath. “But here you are. In my arms. Where you belong.” She takes her earlobe into her mouth and brushes it with her tongue before releasing it and Hecate jolts against her.

Pippa’s hands return to her face and pulls her head around to regard her seriously.

“I’d like very much to prove them wrong, Hiccup.”

Trying to find a sense of equilibrium, she grasps at Pippa’s shoulders.

“Please,” she whispers voice pitched low, unaccustomed to asking for what she needs. But then, “I haven’t - I haven’t done this since -”

She breaks off, shame hot within her, only to melt when Pippa places butterfly kisses against the corner of her mouth.

“That doesn’t matter to me, Hecate. The only thing that matters is if you feel ready. If you are sure you want to move forward at this level. If you’d rather me just kiss you, or simply hold you -”

She cuts her off with a bruising kiss, wrapping her arms tightly around Pippa’s shoulders, keening into her mouth. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she gasps between kisses, let’s her eyes flutter shut. She whispers a spell to vanish the remainder of the garments she wears and lets the sensation of Pippa bare skin against her own wash over her.

Sliding back down against the bed she pulls Pippa with her, melting into the soft mattress. “Please,” she whispers, bringing her hands up over her head, opening herself up, choosing vulnerability. Pippa looks down at her so lovingly and she feels the sticky heat between her legs increase as she entrusts herself to her, submitting to her touch.

“This is what I want. You are what I want. What I’ve always wanted.” She whispers, arching as Pippa’s fingers and tongue work against her flesh. Slowly at first, gentle in their attentiveness, and then more focused and assured until Hecate loses all semblance of the very control she lives by. Loses herself in the way Pippa moves so sweetly against her, how she fills her and breaks her and heals her anew.

And Pippa’s right, she thinks, as she comes undone with a stuttering breath, tears fresh on her cheeks.

It’s every bit like coming home.


End file.
